


Heavenly Light

by vcg73



Series: Helen's Holidays [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, Christmas pageant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vcg73/pseuds/vcg73
Summary: The things a person will do for their best friend. Even play an angel in a Christmas pageant!
Relationships: Kurtcedes
Series: Helen's Holidays [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031145
Kudos: 13





	Heavenly Light

“Are you _sure_ I should be doing this?” Kurt asked for what had to be the tenth time, straightening his long white robe and awkwardly attempting to adjust the harness hidden by a pair of large fluffy wings that were strapped tight against his shoulders. “It isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you asked me to spend Christmas in L.A. with you this year. I don’t even believe in this stuff! What am I doing playing a Heavenly messenger?”

Mercedes assisted in moving the heavy harness up an inch so that her friend was no longer hunching forward in an attempt to keep it from falling off. “What you’re doing is filling in for a very grateful Nativity director who lost her archangel to a bout of the stomach flu three hours before show time,” she reminded. “You’re the same size as Marcus, you can sing, and you’ve had experience flying on a stage rigging. At this moment, that makes you more qualified than anyone else I know. And in return, I promise that I will drive you all over Rodeo Drive tomorrow and let you shop to your heart’s content.”

Mollified by that reminder, Kurt readjusted his wings and tried to figure out how to look appropriately angelic. He wasn’t quite convinced that he was pulling it off, but for the reward of a day in the famous Los Angeles shopping district, he would do his best.

“You’re gonna be great!” Mercedes said, as if hearing his thoughts. “Right?”

“I guess,” Kurt agreed.

“Right!” she said brightly, as if he had enthusiastically agreed. “Now let me fix your hair. We don’t have much time and I don’t want the headband to show.”

Bending forward, Kurt allowed her to run both hands through his thick brown hair and fluff it vigorously, making the locks looser and wavier. He stood patiently while Mercedes put a headband holding a shiny golden halo in place, then re-combed his hair to her satisfaction and liberally applied a coat of hairspray.

Kurt sighed, gesturing down at the silvery white gown he wore. “Well, what do you think. Do I look appropriately celestial?”

His friend grinned broadly. “Definitely. I knew that beautiful Michelangelo face of yours wouldn’t steer me wrong. You may not believe in angels, but totally look the part. You remember the song, right?”

“Of course. Even I attended Christmas pageants and concerts as a kid,” Kurt reminded her. “Speaking of which, walk me through your program one more time so I’m sure where to come in.”

Happy to comply, Mercedes gave him a rapid run-through. “Okay, well you know the basics. Joseph, Mary, a few surly inn-keepers, and finding shelter in the stable. When the scene cuts away from Jesus’ birth, we switch sets and we have the Wise Men traveling across the plains, then the shepherds will come in with their sheep. Danel will play a little song on a pan-flute, then we shine a spotlight on the stars painted above the field. The shepherds cower in fear and that’s your cue to fly in and sing your song. The other angels will walk out on the little balconies we built halfway up and join you on the second verse.”

“How come I’m the only one who has to fly?” Kurt wondered, quickly applying a bit of stage makeup to highlight his eyes, lips, and cheekbones. “Wouldn’t the shepherds be more ‘sore afraid’ if everyone was swooping around?”

Mercedes winced in memory. “We tried that in rehearsal but the rigging kept getting tangled up. After the second mid-air crash, we decided to just have the archangel fly. Besides, you’ll be more memorable this way.”

He huffed. “Are you kidding? Nobody ever remembers anything but the cute kids and the part at the end where everyone is gathered around the baby.”

She just laughed at his Grinchy attitude. “Says the boy who melted like warm butter when I told him how much the local kids would be disappointed if we had to cancel the show at the last minute.”

Kurt gave her a half-hearted smile. “Okay, I admit it. I’m a soft touch for sad little faces. How did you end up directing this show anyway? You never told me.”

Mercedes shrugged. “The community center is being sponsored by my church. They were in need of a director for the play and our pastor asked if anyone would be interested in helping out. I’ve helped with plenty of other productions, so I volunteered. It’s been a lot of fun, and if I hadn’t done this year’s show then _you_ wouldn’t have a solo. In the original draft, the angel just looks solemn and says, ‘I bring you good tidings of great joy.’ and then the scene goes straight back to the stable.”

“Well, that’s boring,” Kurt decided. “They should be happy you have more vision than whoever directed the last time.”

“That’s what I thought,” she agreed. “You all set? I need to go round up my Wise Men. Last time I checked, Rudy was wandering around back stage with his robe half off and his beard nowhere to be seen.”

As his friend dashed away to deal with the latest crisis, Kurt laughed. She was loving every minute of this. He might have agreed to do this due to a combination of shopping and saving the day for sad little children, but it had been equally a desire to not let his best friend down. He looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his halo to look a bit less lopsided. He felt silly, but he could admit that he did look pretty good. And it amused him more than he wanted to admit to think that the audience for a Nativity play was about to be serenaded by a gay atheist Archangel.

~*~*~*~*~

The audience filed in, the lights dimmed, and the production began. Mercedes had added several spiritual songs throughout the show and Kurt found himself really enjoying what parts of it he could see and hear. She had found a very talented cast. Hitching his wings in place once again, he climbed up the backstage rigging and let two stage-hands secure his harness. He had rehearsed this only once today and butterflies filled his stomach as he tried not to think of all that could go wrong.

A teenager who was acting as a shepherd played his simple little song on a set of wooden pipes, and Kurt braced himself. The bright “heavenly” light came up, a swell of music filled the room from the string quartet who was supplying the ambient music, and Kurt hopped off his ledge.

He held his arms out, allowing the snowy wings buckled to his biceps to spread majestically as he flew. It had been a while since he performed “Peter Pan” at the old folks’ home in Brooklyn, and he had forgotten how amazing the experience of flying could be.

The shepherds gasped and cringed as they were supposed to. One of the “sheep” gave away its true origins by barking madly at the soaring figure above, drawing chuckles from the audience. The music backed off a bit and Kurt allowed the two sturdy wires balancing the harness on his back to steady him in mid-flight so that he could sing.

Doing his best to hold still, Kurt drew breath and used his years of NYADA training to project his voice to the farthest corners of the auditorium. The spoke clearly and authoritatively the angel’s famous words, “Fear not. For behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people …”

The spotlight brightened as he went on speaking and Kurt attempted to keep his gaze fixed on a point below the blinding spot. It would not look good for an angel to be squinting. The light was also almost unbearably hot and he hoped hard that his makeup was not running as he felt pools of perspiration gathering and sliding down his skin beneath the heavy costume.

This was beginning to feel like a form of torture as he held himself rigid in midair, pretending not to be drowning in sweat as he smiled and sang in his sweetest voice:

_Ave Maria  
Gratia plena  
Maria, gratia plena  
Maria, gratia plena  
  
Ave, ave dominus  
Dominus tecum  
Benedicta tu in mulieribus  
Et benedictus  
  
Et benedictus fructus ventris  
Ventris tuae, Jesus  
Ave Maria  
  
  
Ave Maria  
Mater Dei  
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus  
Ora pro nobis, Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus  
  
Nunc et in hora mortis  
Et in hora mortis nostrae  
Et in hora mortis nostrae  
Et in hora mortis nostrae  
Ave Maria_

The audience sighed rapturously as Kurt’s voice soared through them, rising and falling in joyous benediction. Other angels had appeared one by one as the song progressed, until it drew to a close with a heavenly host singing in a beautiful chorus.

When the last note faded, the applause was thunderous. He couldn’t see past the glaring spotlight, but the volume was certainly gratifying. It lasted for nearly a minute, during which Kurt was forced to hold his trembling pose and try to look serene until the sound faded and the roasting blinding light finally went out, allowing him to be raised off stage, where the same two stage hands helped him out of his wires before allowing him to climb down the ladder to the stage floor.

“Oh, my god,” he gasped as he hit level ground, taking a hard seat on the nearest flat surface.

“You all right?” a woman asked quietly. He recognized her as Adrienne, one of the two prop mistresses.

He nodded. “Hot,” he replied. “And I think my heart is about to thump out of my chest.”

She patted him on the shoulder. “Well, you did great out there. Everyone loved you. Mercedes was really lucky to find you at the last minute.”

Kurt smiled. “I’ll remind her of that when we’re out shopping tomorrow. She owes me a really good Christmas gift,” he joked, gratefully accepting the bottle of cold water she handed to him. “Thanks.”

The woman smiled back at him. “You’re welcome, honey. You need help getting out of this?” she asked, tugging lightly on one of his wings.

“Please.” The harness was hooked to him through several slits sewn into the robe and Kurt was not convinced he would be able to remove it without ripping the fine fabric. Adrienne efficiently got him unbuckled and unstrapped in seconds. He removed the robe as well, happily basking in the feel of cool air on his overheated skin. He was wearing white jeans, white boots, and a plain white t-shirt underneath the robe. “I’m auditioning to play a snowman next,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Adrienne, whose skin was nearly as dark as Kurt’s was pale, laughed with him. “If the snowman sings, I think you’ll get it!” She handed him the robe. “You hang on to this. Toss it back on to take your bow. We won’t worry about the wings.”

“Thanks again,” he said.

Curious, Kurt stood and slipped into the wings at stage left, watching as shepherds, kings, and a few of his fellow angels gathered around the little family in the manger and sang another joyful hymn. He smiled as he watched them. He would never take this event as fact, the way many people did, but it was still a very nice story and he had enjoyed being part of it.

When the show ended, Kurt put his robe on and went out with the rest of the cast to happily enthusiastic applause. The Community Center was a large one and it was filled to capacity. There were even a few people standing in the back. They clapped and whistled with flattering vigor when Kurt stepped forward for his solo bow.

The smiles filling the faces he could see made him feel glad all over again that he had agreed to this. When Mercedes was brought out to take a bow, Kurt applauded harder than anyone.

“Was it worth it?” she whispered, stepping back and taking his hand as the curtain closed again.

The happy light filling his best friend’s eyes made all of the frantic preparation and uncomfortable performing conditions for this show feel inconsequential. “One hundred percent,” he said. Dropping a kiss on her cheek, he said, “Can I buy you dinner?”

“Any chance I can get you to keep wearing this?” she teased, plucking at his halo.

Kurt had forgotten all about it. Pulling the headband free, he placed it on Mercedes’ own head. “I think you wear it better.”

Mercedes grinned and struck a pose. “Maybe I do at that.”

Laughing, the two friends went to return the costumes and props. Mercedes had a few last minute items to take care of, then the rest of this long holiday weekend was theirs.

THE END


End file.
